


Baubles, Candy Canes and Brussels Sprouts

by Small_Hobbit



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Christmas, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-07
Updated: 2013-01-07
Packaged: 2017-11-24 02:01:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/629085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Small_Hobbit/pseuds/Small_Hobbit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When John gets injured just before Christmas he insists Sherlock helps with the preparations.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Baubles, Candy Canes and Brussels Sprouts

**Author's Note:**

> written for dioscureantwins

“I didn’t think you’d be allowed to drink at the moment,” Greg Lestrade said to John Watson as he passed him one of the two pints he had carried back from the bar.

John waved his plaster cast encased arm in acknowledgement. “The worst that will happen is that I fall asleep, it’s not as if I’m going to either be driving or operating machinery in this state. And I really needed an excuse to get out of the flat.”

A sudden shout from the other end of the pub caused them to look up. Chelsea had scored and Greg groaned, “The way my luck is going we’ll be three nil down by half time.” 

John made a sympathetic noise, “What are you doing for Christmas? Have you got much time off?”

“Now we’re short-staffed I said I’d cover some extra shifts. I’m working till two on Christmas Day and then I’ll go back to my flat. It hardly seems worth making any effort.”

“In which case, come to us.”

“If you’re sure I won’t be in the way.”

“Not at all. Mrs Hudson isn’t going to her sister’s until Boxing Day, so she’s offered to cook Christmas dinner for us and we’re having it in 221B. If you come it’ll be a proper party.”

“Do you think Mrs Hudson will mind cooking for another person, I really don’t want to cause her extra work?”

“I rather expect she will provide enough food for at least six people, so I wouldn’t worry on that score.”

“Then thank you. I shall look forward to it.”

They continued to drink their pints in companionable silence. Once they had finished Greg asked “Do you want another one?”

“No thanks, I think I’ll head back.”

“Fair enough, thanks again for the invitation.”

When John arrived back in the flat he found Sherlock lounging on the settee, in a similar position to the one he’d left him in.

“Sherlock, do you remember our conversation from earlier?”

“Should I?”

“Let me give you a hint. I said we were going to celebrate Christmas.”

“Oh, that one. I believe I said that if you wished to do so, that was up to you.”

“If _we_ are going to celebrate Christmas, then it is incumbent on _you_ to make an effort, because _I_ am not going to be able to do much.”

“I take it from your tone of voice that you feel that I am in some way responsible for your current incapacity.”

“Damn right. If you hadn’t gone rushing off without letting us know that the building was unsafe I wouldn’t have been hit by falling masonry and consequently my arm would not have been broken.” John waved his arm in what could best be described as a menacing fashion.

“I didn’t know the extent of the structural defects.”

“Even a ‘be careful, that wall may be a bit dodgy’ would have given us some warning.”

“Hmpf. Anyway, Mrs Hudson has said she will cook dinner; what more do you want?”

“Decorations, including a tree. The place needs to be tidy, because I am not seeing Mrs Hudson trying to eat what will no doubt be a magnificent meal surrounded by experiments and body parts. Greg will be coming too, so we shall need room to sit in here.”

“What? Oh, why have you invited him?”

“Because I wasn’t the only one injured and now the Yard are short-staffed. Unlike someone I could mention, Greg is prepared to put himself out for other people. He’s working some of Christmas Day, so he can’t get to his sister’s. Rather than leaving him by himself, I’ve invited him to join us.”

“Whatever.”

“We could invite Mycroft too, if you’d like.”

“I take your silence as a ‘no’ then,” John added. “Right, I’m going to bed. We go shopping first thing tomorrow.”

~~~~~~~

John wasn’t entirely surprised when first thing turned out to be mid-morning, but at least he had manoeuvred Sherlock out of the flat and into the shops. He ignored the grumbles and ploughed on, selecting various brightly coloured decorations, which he insisted Sherlock carry. 

“Right,” he said. “Mrs Hudson knows a man who will deliver a tree for us, but we need to buy some lights and a few things to hang on it. How about some candy canes?”

“Definitely not.”

“What’s wrong with them?”

“They remind me of Mycroft.”

“Fair enough. Why don’t you choose something?”

“Sugar mice.”

“What?”

“If you don’t want my suggestion...”

“No, that’s great. And some chocolate snowmen. And what about these baubles?”

“No. These are nicer.” Sherlock indicated some wooden ornaments in the shape of children’s toys.

“Excellent.”

“Can we go home now?”

“We still have to buy Mrs Hudson a Christmas present. And I’d like to get Greg something.”

“You can order them CDs online. It’s not as if I can carry any more.” 

John appeared to hesitate, so Sherlock added “I wonder what the man holding the small girl would say if I told him he wasn’t actually the child’s father?”

“Okay, you win, we’ll go home.”

As soon as they were indoors Sherlock said “Right, I’m getting back to my experiment.”

“Great, and leave everything else to me. You agreed you’d help and you push off just as soon as we’ve done one thing.”

“So what do you want now?”

“Nothing. Forget it. My arm’s hurting, my shoulder’s hurting, in fact I hurt all over. I’m going for a lie down.”

John stormed upstairs, slammed his door and sat on his bed. He knew he was acting like a child, but that was what he felt like. He’d had great ideas for Christmas and all the things he was going to do, before Sherlock’s actions had left him with a broken arm and unable to fulfil his plans by himself. Sherlock was refusing to co-operate and really it just wasn’t fair. He lay down and curled into a ball.

There was a light tap on the door and Sherlock came in. “I’ve brought you a mug of tea and the painkillers you refuse to take because they make you sleepy. I suggest you take a couple.”

When John went back downstairs a couple of hours later he felt much better. He went into the kitchen to make himself a cup of tea and discovered that Sherlock had apparently started to tidy up. Then he noticed that one of the cupboard doors was not closed properly. Cautiously he opened it and quickly stood to one side as most of the contents cascaded onto the floor.

“Sherlock, I think I have discovered a flaw in your plan,” he shouted.

Sherlock appeared in the kitchen doorway, neatly sidestepping a hamster ball that was rolling towards him.

“Maybe if I tied the two doors together it would work,” he said.

John ignored him and took his tea into the living room, where again Sherlock was probably tidying up. Since this meant that the newspapers that had been spread all over the floor were now piled up on John’s chair, he sat on the sofa.

“That’s my seat,” Sherlock objected.

“You won’t be needing it for a while, so I shall remain here until my chair is free.”

“You don’t fancy giving me a hand?”

“Invalid, remember.” John nodded at his arm, whilst switching on the television with his other hand.

~~~~~~~

The following morning Mrs Hudson tapped on the door and entered with a “cooee”.

“I thought you boys might like a few mince pies to be going on with,” she said.

“Thank you Mrs Hudson,” John said taking the plate she had offered. “I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve invited Greg to join us for Christmas dinner as he’ll be on his own.”

“Of course I don’t mind. It will be lovely to see that nice DI again. I was going to prepare the vegetables this morning, so I’ll just do a few extra.”

“Would you like Sherlock to give you a hand?”

“Don’t you think he’ll object?”

“Not at all, he’ll be delighted to help. I’ll come down and collect them from you so he can get started.”

John had just returned to the flat, carrying bags of carrots, parsnips and sprouts when Sherlock emerged from his bedroom.

“I told Mrs Hudson that you would help with the vegetables for Christmas dinner,” John said. “As a special treat you may use the sharp knife labelled ‘Sherlock if you touch this knife I shall throw away the entire contents of the fridge.’”

Sherlock glared at John and took the proffered bags. “I do have other things to do you know, apart from your Christmas preparations.”

“Shame you didn’t think of that when you left me standing by that dodgy building in Harris Street,” John said, offering the plate of mince pies to Sherlock. “Take one, you can have another when you’ve finished.”

Sherlock disappeared into the kitchen and slammed the door. Everything went quiet and John began to read the paper. After a while he realised how quiet it was. Working on the principle known to all mothers with small children, that if you can’t hear them they must be up to no good, he got up and opened the kitchen door.

At first sight he was impressed; Sherlock had clearly worked hard in chopping the vegetables. Then he realised what the pieces were being used for. With the aid of a packet of cocktail sticks, Sherlock had transformed the vegetables into people and was busy re-enacting part of his most recent case.

“Sherlock, what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Working out the direction Stone must have taken after he exited the club.” Sherlock picked up a stick of carrot with a sprout head and two cocktail sticks for legs. “According to witness reports he must have turned right because Patterson would have seen him if he had gone left.” He pointed at another sprout-headed creation, this time with a parsnip body. “But this doesn’t tie in with the presumed time of death for the security guard.” (Carrot body, with additional tomato ketchup). “Unless Patterson is lying about the time he was in the area. Of course, that’s it...”

In his enthusiasm Sherlock picked up ‘Patterson’ and the sprout head shot off and rolled under the table.

“Decapitated was he?” John asked. “No-one is going to want to eat those vegetables, especially now they’ve been part of a crime scene. I think you’ve done enough anyway, so just go and phone Greg to tell him you’ve solved it and I’ll tidy up.”

The Christmas tree was delivered in the afternoon and John set about hanging the ornaments on it. Sherlock returned shortly afterwards and picked up the decorations they had bought the previous day.

“I suppose you want me to stick these to the ceiling,” he said.

“Yes please, if you wouldn’t mind,” John replied.

John went to get one of the kitchen chairs so that he could reach to decorate the top branches of the tree. He was about to climb on it when he heard Sherlock say, “Clearly you are not using what limited brain power you actually possess.”

“What have I done this time?” John grumbled.

“I hardly think that standing on a chair when your arm is in plaster is really a good idea. It would be much simpler for me to attach the last few ornaments.”

John gave a wry smile. “I didn’t think you were interested.”

“Maybe not. But if you were to fall off and further hurt yourself I would have to do all the rest of the preparations by myself. And Mrs Hudson would probably never give me another mince pie.”

Once the tree was finally decorated to Sherlock’s satisfaction John found himself being dragged into the doorway to ‘take in the full effect’. 

“And while we’re here,” Sherlock added, “I think the mistletoe needs testing.”

John glanced up and was surprised to see a sprig of mistletoe above the doorway. He certainly hadn’t noticed Sherlock attaching it there. However, he wasn’t going to turn down the opportunity and grabbing Sherlock he pulled him into a long kiss.


End file.
